Weightless
I’ve been cycling through these wild mood swings lately. One moment I’m completely in love with the world and everything in it, ready to spread good vibes around like I’m on some gospel mission, and the next I feel completely betrayed by everyone around me and all I want is to disappear to Canada and never look back. In between I’m clicking through iTunes like a man possessed, playing the same Placebo songs until they’re completely worn out, and deliberately skipping anything by Muse just out of spite.
It’s been months like this. You can’t make real progress when your personal life is unstable. When things are solid at home, everything else falls into place, but right now I’m just weightless, drifting—like every breeze could push me somewhere new. I’ve got two theories about what’s happening. Either I watched way too much Will & Grace back in the day, or I just need someone to actually be there. And the problem is that when you’re this far down, you can’t see what might actually matter—that maybe something real is growing out of all this struggle, that maybe you need to be broken to understand anything. But that’s useless thinking when you’re underwater. For some feelings, I don’t have the right to claim them anymore.